


Native Tongues

by Lyoung_50



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alley Sex, Dirty Dancing, Drinking, Latino Alec Lightwood, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, Spanish Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 09:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18635548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyoung_50/pseuds/Lyoung_50
Summary: Magnus had heard Alec speak Spanish on several occasions, usually in hushed tones at Isabelle with blush darkened cheeks when she has teased him about something. But this? This was different. This was Alec’s fingers digging into his hips, his teeth grazing over Magnus’ heated skin, and his heated breath skating over Magnus when he purred out ‘más’.





	Native Tongues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [consulalexander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/consulalexander/gifts).



> I don't know what to say about this one. There were several discussions about Alec speaking Spanish like Izzy does and separate discussions about how damn good Matt Daddario looks when he smokes pot for movies and this just...happened.
> 
> As an aside, I haven't taken Spanish since high school so you'll have to cut me some slack here. I apologize for any formatting weirdness, it doesn't transfer well from Google Docs to here.
> 
> Feel free to come find me on tumblr and scream about these boys! headofthenewyorkinstitue

It took him far longer than expected to find Alec in the pulsing, shifting crowd in the club. They’d needed to wind down after Alec’s (admittedly) embarrassing attempt at salsa dancing at the Tropicana. Alec’s face had flushed red every time his foot landed on top of Mangus’, which had been frankly adorable until the moment that he felt his big toe bruising. 

When they’d arrived at the club, Magnus had been immediately notified that he needed to make a phone call. He’d left a slightly panicked looking Alec by the bar, money stuffed into the Shadowhunter’s rough palm with the promise that he’d make it as quick as possible before stepping out into the oppressively humid Havana night. 

He absolutely had not expected to find Alec in the middle of the dance floor, threadbare linen shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest that was plastered with sweat, and his hips swivelling to the pulsing bass in a way that was positively filthy. Beads of perspiration trailed along the sharp lines of his runes and slid over his skin until they soaked into the fabric of his jeans. Magnus’ mouth was as dry as the Sahara and it didn’t improve at all when Alec slid a hand over his own neck and into the sweat-slick mop of hair on his head, tugging the strands in a manner that Magnus knew all too well had a moan curling at the base of Alec’s throat. 

There was a deep red drink clutched in Alec’s free hand as he danced, but there was something else...something out of place between the middle and pointer finger of the hand clutched around the sweating glass. The ‘something’ was holding Magnus’ full attention until Alec’s lips curled around the straw to drink whatever fruity concoction was in the glass. 

“Alexan--.” The name died on his tongue when Alec lifted his hand again, mouth curling around the object between his fingers and inhaling. The object’s tip glowed in stark contrast to the pulsing lights of the club and Magnus focused on the tiny red fleck of color. “Well, this is new…” He said loud enough to be heard over the music. Alec’s eyes opened slowly, unfocused and searching until they landed on Magnus. He gave the warlock a lazy, close-lipped smile while holding his breath. 

When Magnus was close enough, the hand not holding his drink shot out to curl around the back of his neck, pulling him close effortlessly. He let out a soft sound of surprise when Alec’s lips landed on his, already trying to pry them open gently, and who was he to deny Alec anything? Magnus’ lips parted and he was greeted with the familiar slide of Alec’s tongue against his. 

This time, he realized, that tongue was accompanied by something else warm as the smoke flowed from Alec’s mouth into his at an agonizingly slow pace. He inhaled until he felt as though he may cough before pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against Alec’s. He was breathing heavily, polished fingers threading through the hair at the base of Alec’s skull. 

“What has gotten into you, my dear? Not that I’m complaining at all. I’m a big fan, but this is a new you.” 

Alec didn’t answer the question, he just set his drink blindly on a tray as a waitress passed by them and let both of his hands skim over Magnus’ sides until they landed on his hips. Magnus was sure he was never going to be used to those massive hands on his skin and those nimble fingers digging in and leaving marks on his flesh. It was a religious experience. 

With a speed that was astounding for someone that Magnus was aware to be, at least, mildly intoxicated, Alec had spun Magnus so that his back was pressed solidly against the Shadowhunter’s chest. He couldn’t hold onto the gasp that tore free when Alec’s hand crawled up his chest and curled around the base of his throat, warm skin shifting the cool metal of his necklaces and fingertips burning so hot that they felt like coals against his skin. All of it was just amplified when he felt the hot rush of smoke being exhaled against the back of his neck causing a shudder to roll through his spine. 

“Te amo, mi corazón. Dame más.” Alec’s voice was a feral, heated snarl against his ear, followed closely by the rough scrape of teeth, dragging a groan that originated in his toes. Before he could respond, Magnus was lost in the unexpected roll of Alec’s hips against him, his hand automatically reaching back to thread into Alec’s hair, urging him on. “Follarme.” 

Magnus had heard Alec speak Spanish on several occasions, usually in hushed tones at Isabelle with blush darkened cheeks when she has teased him about something. But this? This was different. This was Alec’s fingers digging into his hips, his teeth grazing over Magnus’ heated skin, and his heated breath skating over Magnus when he purred out ‘más’. 

“Alexander,” He gasped out, not caring how needy his own voice sounded. He couldn’t be blamed, really, when those nimble fingers were walking a dangerous line between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his pants. “Shouldn’t we go back home for this?” 

“Too far.” Alec’s head was leaning far enough forward that his sweat-damp hair was brushing Magnus’ nose. The musky scent of what he’d been smoking curled with the familiar scent of pilfered sandalwood shampoo, making his head spin just a bit. Then again, that could have been attributed to the stuttered jerk of Alec’s hips against his to the start of a new song. “Te deseo, Magnus.” 

‘I want you”. That had been what he’d said, and it was still a bit baffling to him that this amazing man wanted him, of all people. Desired him. It made him pliant and happy under Alec’s hands, his body starting to relax with the heavy pulse of music and the magical swipes of Alec’s hands over him. 

Before he knew it, he was leaning most of his weight back against Alec and his hips were moving in scorching patterns that most exotic dancers could only hope to achieve. He moved in perfect rhythm with the song, despite Alec’s lips and teeth being on a mission to mark the entire back of his neck with bites and bruises, which was spectacularly distracting. 

When Alec’s teeth sank in more sharply than they had before, Magnus couldn’t contain the lewd moan that escaped him. The sound only seemed to spur Alec on and the man moved to the other side of his neck and mirrored the same intense bite against his smooth skin. The short “ah” from Magnus seemed to be what brought Alec back enough to realize that the skin was bruising because he cursed under his breath and placed a kiss over the spot. 

“Lo siento.” He murmured against Magnus. “Shit. I meant sorry...sorry.” 

“Alexander, do you really think you ever have to apologize to me for this?” His voice was thready and breathless as he spoke, turning his head to brush his nose over Alec’s temple. “I love hearing you lose yourself like this. Never apologize to me for this. Never.” He couldn’t see the smile Alec gave him, but he felt the distinct curve of it against his cheek. 

“Bésame.” Magnus’ breath caught in his throat at the directive. 

Oh. 

Hearing Alec asking...no, telling him to kiss him in Spanish touched a part of himself that he hadn’t known existed and he absolutely was powerless to deny Alec this. His lips were on Alec’s before he could actually register his body moving and his ringed hand was winding around the silk strands of Alec’s hair, holding him to the kiss with a ferocity that was almost overwhelming. 

Suddenly the fact that they were in the middle of a throng of people on a crowded dance floor in Cuba was the last thing on Magnus’ mind. The only thing that he could process was 

‘AlecAlecAlecAlec, more Alec.’. This has been one of the first things that had terrified him about this relationship with his Shadowhunter. He had been with thousands of people, downworlders of every kind and mundanes alike, over his long life. But not a single one of them got him so entirely desperate and pleading the way that Alexander Lightwood got him. Alec was the only entity in existence that could make him beg and he would not think twice. 

When his mind refocused, he found that the hand not in Alec’s hair was tearing at the collar of Alec’s linen shirt, pulling it to the side enough that he could smooth his hand over Alec’s collarbone. He traced his fingers over the stamina rune (which was still one of the most pleasantly humorous ironies that the world had to offer) and flicked his thumb over Alec’s hammering pulse point. 

Magnus wasn’t entirely sure if it had been his own doing or if Alec’s hands were responsible for turning him so that their chests were pressed against each other, but he wasn’t going to question it either way. 

“Espera. Magnus. Espera un segundo.” Alec breathed out against his lips, one hand solid on Magnus’ waist, the other disappearing tragically. Magnus pulled back to ask Alec why the hell he wanted him to wait, but Alec held up the hand that still had the joint tucked between his fingers and took a deep inhale before dropping it to the floor and crushing it beneath his battered boot. When Magnus’ glowing gold eyes shifted back up to Alec’s handsome face, he found him looking utterly wrecked. Alec’s hair was a complete mess and his lips were kiss swollen. When Alec realized he was staring he gave a slow smirk and pillars of smoke curled out from between his lips like deadly serpents. Magnus was mostly sure he was going to die. 

“There. Soy tuyo.” Alec rumbled. 

“What does that mean? The last thing you said?” Magnus questioned dazedly. He knew, of course. But he wanted to hear Alec say it. 

“I’m yours.” He grinned, his hair falling over his forehead. “You know I’m yours.” 

“And don’t you forget it.” Magnus leaned in a fraction, just barely letting his lips brush over Alec’s in a not-quite kiss. He refused to cross the small space between them, waiting for Alec to do so first. He didn’t have to wait long. 

Alec crushed his lips against Magnus’ and took advantage of the gasp that came when his hands curled over Magnus’ ass, pulling him flush against himself and flicked his tongue lewdly over Magnus’. 

‘He’s gotten good at this.’ Magnus mused, a pleased hum rumbling through his chest. He could remember not too long before that Alec had been eager to learn, but lacked the finesse born of practice. Alec’s enthusiasm had almost chipped a tooth on more than one occasion, but now there would be no telling that he’d only ever (and would only ever if Magnus had his way) kissed Magnus. 

His internal musings were interrupted by the slow grind of Alec’s hips against him and the fingers holding him close digging into his skin. Magnus’ arm instinctively went around Alec’s shoulders, holding him close when he felt teeth grazing along the sinuous tendons in the side of his neck. The entire club blurred away until the only clear focal point he had was Alec. Alec’s teeth marking his skin. Alec’s tongue soothing the scorching trail of bruises his teeth left. Alec’s hands moving Magnus’ hips in the perfect counterpoint to his own. Alec’s hips driving him fucking crazy. The scent of Alec enveloping him like fog until he was dizzy with it. 

“Please.” He whined when the teeth of the zipper on Alec’s jeans caught his own and they both exhaled like all of the air had been punched out of them. “Alec. Alexander.” He needed more and he needed Alec’s attention on him. Alec seemed far too interested in the trajectory of his lips to lift his head and grunted out “hm?” against his skin instead. “Alexander, take me somewhere or I’m going to ask you to fuck me on this dance floor.” 

That had Alec’s attention and his head snapped up, narrowly missing Magnus’ nose as he did. When his eyes focused on Magnus, he was shocked to find them blown almost completely black with desire. Alec’s face was more flushed than Magnus had ever seen it and his chest was heaving as if he’d run a marathon. 

“Yeah...yeah, okay. We can, um…” Alec stammered, his voice sounding just as wrecked as he looked. He scanned the room a few times before he obviously found what he was looking for and wound his hand around Magnus’, leading them through the crowd and to a door that was marked “employee exit only” in Spanish and he shouldered it open. 

The door lead to a back alley with one dim, flickering light at the opposite end. Magnus watched as Alec slipped his stele from his pocket and drew a rune against the rusted metal of the door. He tested the handle once and seemed to be satisfied when the door didn’t budge. 

“There. Locked.” Alec breathed, wheeling on Magnus with a look of determination. He advanced on him with an intensity usually reserved for demons, one hand extended and settling into the middle of Magnus’ chest. He walked him back until the warlock’s back his the brick wall and Alec was on him again, all snarled declarations of love and filthy grinding hips. 

Before he had a chance to register what had happened, Alec had both of Magnus’ hands pinned over his head in one of Alec’s larger ones. The other hand was curled around Magnus’ throat, his thumb hooked under his chin to lift Magnus’ chin so that Alec had room to work. The wet slide of lips and tongue and teeth over the sharp curve of his Adam’s apple had Magnus gasping, his wrists flexing with the instinctive need to touch Alec, but they were held fast. 

“Be still or you’ll end up over my knee.” Alec purred, his mouth suddenly at Magnus’ ear. The whine that escaped his throat could have been considered pathetic in most circumstances, but the brilliant smirk that it brought to Alec’s face made it worth it. “Buen chico.” 

Magus was almost entirely sure that Alexander Lightwood telling him he was a good boy was going to be the end of his eternal life. That was new. They had discussed it, sure, but Alec had never acted on it before. Magnus would have been a mad man to have called him out on it. Instead, he planned to just enjoy it as much as he could. 

When the heel of Alec’s hand wandered down to grind against the strained zipper of his dress pants, Magnus keened loudly, his entire body arching into the touch like he was a live wire. Shocks of pleasure echoed through his limbs when Alec started to grind his palm in slow circles, not letting up at all when Magnus whimpered out “please” repeatedly until it was hardly sensical anymore. 

“Hermoso.” He breathed, his eyes still locked on Magnus’ face so he could watch the reactions he was getting. All too soon, he was pulling his hand away and leaving Magnus’ hips jerking forward into the empty space between them. “These stay here. Do you understand?” Alec’s index finger tapped on the soft underside of Magnus’ wrists against the wall. When Magnus simply nodded Alec’s eyebrow arched up toward his hairline. It was a gesture that Magnus had seen hundreds of times, but something about the way that he was looking at him like he wanted to eat Magnus alive made the gesture one that sent a shudder through him. “No puedo oírte.” 

‘I can’t hear you.’ Magnus’ brain supplied helpfully. 

“Yes, Alexander.” He whispered, his voice wrecked and barely audible. The gleam in Alec’s eyes warmed his chest. 

“We’ll work on that title. Not right now though. Right now, up you go.” Magnus was going to question what he meant when Alec’s hands closed around the back of his thighs and the next thing he knew he was pinned between Alec and the wall with his legs wound tightly around Alec’s hips with an undignified squeak. “As you so helpfully pointed out, we can portal home from here. That means that there is nothing stopping me from letting you make an absolute mess of those damn pants that you’ve been taunting me with all evening.” 

“I...I haven’t.” Magnus gasped, his hips jerking forward against Alec’s when the other man began moving against him again. 

“You look sinful in those pants and you know it. And because you know it, you’re going to come for me in them. Right here against this wall, without my hands or yours. Just like this.” Alec breathed out, obviously trying to contain the effect this was having on him, but not quite succeeding. “If you can be good for me and do that, and when we get home I’ll fuck you through the bed. Sound like a plan, mi amor?” 

“Sounds...good.” He rasped out with a shaky nod, his eyes glued to Alec. The smirk he got in return was all the warning that Magnus had before Alec’s hips were rolling against him in earnest, the solid warmth of him dragging against Magnus in ways that were probably illegal in some dark corner of The Accords, because he was pretty sure that it was actually a tactic to short out his brain. 

Alec’s lips found his in a messy, desperate kiss. It was more teeth and tongue than anything but it was so perfect Magnus could have cried. It took an embarrassingly short span of time before he felt the low, curling heat of desire settle in his stomach and he was sucking in soft gasps against Alec, pulling back just enough to get more air in his lungs. 

“M-more, please...don’t stop, Alexander.” He knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop it. It took everything that he had in him to keep his hands pinned to the wall, but he wanted to. He needed to be good for Alec. 

“That’s it.” Alec rumbled against his temple. “Dejame ir por mi.” That was all it took for Magnus to tumble over the edge, his body curling forward until he was slumped over Alec’s shoulder, his hands hanging limply against Alec’s back. 

“I m-moved my hands.” He stammered, too relaxed to form smooth sentences. 

“Shh, that’s okay. You did so well for me. So damn well.” Alec soothed, his large hand rubbing along Magnus’ spine. “Estoy tan orgulloso de ti. Mi buen chico.” Magnus leaned into the kisses that Alec brushed over his temple with a soft hum. 

“I love you, Alexander.” He slurred quietly, his limbs all relaxed enough that he should have been worried about falling. But he knew that Alec had him. 

“Te amo, Magnus. Let’s go home and get you to bed before you start drooling on my shoulder.” The affectionate laughter in Alec’s voice was the only thing that saved him from getting smacked. Definitely the only thing. It had nothing to do with the fact that Magnus didn’t know that he could summon the energy to do it. “Think you’ve got it in you to make a portal?” Magnus lifted his hand enough to wave it in the general direction of the flickering light and a portal winked to life in the humid Havana air. 

“....You sure that’s going to take us to the loft? That was quite the nonchalant conjuring.” 

“....Probably.” Magnus mumbled. Alec shrugged and stepped toward the portal. As he stepped through the swirling, crackling light the last thing that the alleyway echoed with was Magnus’ voice. “So…..you smoke pot, huh?”


End file.
